Got a new Transhuman Congress story posted, this one finally introducing — sort of — the leader of the majority party, Chelsea Sears. “Expanding Borders“:
The doctors told me that I was stuck in my own head.
I wasn’t. I was in the nets all the time, doing ten things at once with a bunch of people. I was rarely ever alone.
“Terminal absorption” was what the doctors called it. Despite what the vids showed, very few people had personalities really obsessive enough to be likely to fall to it.
This is one of my few attempts at first-person narrative, and while it think it works for this character and this story, it’s not something I overly enjoyed writing. It’s much harder to do past-tense in first person than I expected it to be.
Now I’m off to enjoy the suddenly cold and rainy Phoenix weather. Bleh.
Moving a bit in the timeline of the Transhuman Congress to the late 25th century with “Entering Valhalla“:
“There’s no way you finished Mueller’s game already! Sweet kittens, that fifth scenario is ridiculous!” Nana whined.
Viktoriya sighed and pulled a short blue dress from her closet. “Just use a slingshot around Cyrus. That’ll get you out of the system with your money. Since you know the secret, can we please go out to finish shopping? You’ll have time tomorrow morning to finish that one.” She touched a panel on her wall and held the dress up against herself as the wall shimmered into a mirror. Perfect.
My story this week is a new one in the Meta-physics plot arc of the Transhuman Congress, called “Needs denied“:
Chase shook his head slightly. “Are you interested?”
Miriam didn’t have to think more than twice. “Yes, but I’m not going to be quiet and meek and let stuff slide.”
He actually smiled slightly. “That’s good. Keep that attitude. I have a variety of projects I want to bring you in on.”
“Projects like the Metas?” Miriam fired back.
Chase’s smile twisted a little as he said, “Yes, projects like the Metas. Projects like Lina. The Hadas and the Nortons.”
Continue reading “Needs denied” posted
As promised last week, I have another Transhuman Congress story up, called “Surgical Strike“:
Sirpa waved a hand at the monitor. “We are adaptable.”
“I can see that…” Harold said slowly with narrowed eyes. “Can I have your name?”
“Not yet,” Sirpa said, moving her lips in a facsimile of a smile. Harold didn’t smile with her/us. “We aren’t human, Harold, however much you want us to pretend to be. We have no ‘humanish mannerisms’ other than what we learned when we woke five months ago. This specific physicality is not tightly bound to our existence as your body is.”
I went back to my “Lina” characters this week, complete with their fun she/they/us verbiage.
I’ve got another short up in the Transhuman Congress — “Lina“:
“This is the first model of its type!” the voice above us said in breathy, fast voice.
We opened our eyes — no. One of us opened his eyes, but we all see, and in that moment, we diverged. He/We looked up at the human, the blushing/flushed/excited/!! human man leaning over us.